Trooping the Colour
by KTyler
Summary: Short story, continuing our saga of David and Ellie. Ellie does an interview, against the wishes of her family, and chaos ensues.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi everyone! Here's a quick little story that came to me. I was thinking about what might happen if the princess took a stance on political affairs. This takes place after the end of my other series. I don't think you need to read those, but you obviously can if you want! FYI for you non-royal watchers, but Trooping the Colour is the Queen's official birthday celebration and it occurs the first week of June. I'm not a huge politics person, so bear with me if any of this is incorrect, but I've just sort of glossed over everything, so it's probably fine. _

David was just walking from the car park when the Range Rover pulled up in front of their apartment, returning Eleanor from her afternoon engagement. Tom spotted him first, an exasperated look on the sandy haired man's face. Then, she was out of the suv, beautiful face clouded in anger.

"I'm allowed to have an opinion!" She was fuming, hands balled into tiny fists, raging at Tom.

"That's not the issue, princess." Tom tried, closing the vehicle door and following her into the shade of the courtyard, Eleanor walking inexplicably quickly on the gravel in her high heels. The three stopped there, and Tom turned toward David, telling him about the day. Into the engagement and out, protestors lined the streets. They seemed to be split down the middle; pro Brexit and anti Brexit, but it was still yelling and anger and tension all around.

David exhaled, his car keys jingling in his hand. He should have stayed at work ten minutes later. Tom would've been gone and Eleanor would have been more calm, maybe.

"I'm just trying to be rational, but _her royal highness_ is being unreasonable." Tom's professionalism was rapidly deteriorating. That got him a dirty look from both companions.

"Maybe you should skip the parade tomorrow." David tried, knowing the exact response he would get, but had to at least try. Since they had moved in together, Tom had relied on David to help manage her. Two heads were better than one and all that, beside the fact that she listened to David, mostly.

This time though, he knew it wasn't going to work. Since the interview she had given a week or so ago, tensions were high. Her brother was angry with her for going on the telly to discuss her views on Brexit, but she just wanted to do the right thing and was sticking to her guns. Once you told her not to do something, it was all in, dig in her heels stubbornness.

Inside their apartments, she stopped in the entryway, putting her clutch down. She crossed her arms and looked at both men, lips in a tight line.

"There are reports that there will be some protests." Tom continued, arms crossed as well. "Pro Brexit, protestors that are angry with you."

"With me?" Now she was straight out frowning. "You know I get tons of threats, who cares? I'm going to the parade and I'm riding my horse."

"Can we compromise with a carriage?" David tried. They had entered the kitchen, and she turned away from them both to open the big metal refrigerator.

"No. What's the difference? Horseback or open carriage?" Eleanor replied, turning back toward him and Tom and handing Tom a bottle of water. "I've ridden in trooping the colour since I became a colonel in the guards. I'm not stopping now for complete tosh. Maybe I should go on the telly again and tell them I'm pro-choice, pro-immigration and I believe in the NHS. Really give them something to talk about." She winked at David, brushed past Tom, and headed upstairs to change.

David sighed and looked at his mate. She was a handful, that was for sure.


	2. Chapter 2

A day later, Eleanor was at the royal mews, pulling herself into the saddle of her white horse. Her black boots were gleaming, tight white trousers spotless, white gloved hands gripping the saddle. As soon as the Queen's carriage passed, they would head out behind her and be followed by the rest of the regiment. Tom and Claude were standing off to the side, having to look up at her from where she was on the big horse. She had been in a good mood all day; it was the protection officers that were stressed and cranky. Presently, she was talking with her brother, waiting to start out.

"Take my picture." She was saying to Harry. "Make sure you get Alma in it." She instructed, talking about the horse. Harry rolled his blue eyes, but did as she asked and then texted her the photo. She immediately frowned.

"My eyes are closed, wanker."

"Your bloke doesn't care about your eyes." Harry joked, a cheeky grin, but took another and texted that one as well. She texted the second photo to David and slid the phone into the pocket of her heavy black uniform coat.

David's phone pinged from where he was in the stands with Charlie and Ella. He replied to her text with a cheeky comment and told the kids Eleanor was headed their way. There were big television screens set up at the parade ground to show the spectators in the stands the progress of the route and the things they couldn't see from their seats.

It all happened so quickly. The cameras caught an object flying through the air and striking Harry's brown horse. Harry was a keen horseman, but it took him time to calm the big animal. The protection officers all came closer, Harry waved them off, getting the horse back in line. David's eyes went to Eleanor on the big screens, easily spotted on the white horse. She calmed the animal, leaning down to pat it's side and pulling it back away from Harry's to give the big animals space.

William had done the same, to her left, and that had put them half a row behind, exposed. Everyone in the stands and the parade froze when a loud crack sounded, all eyes going wide. They didn't realize it was a gunshot until Eleanor's horse gave out a terrifying cry, and blood spurted out from the front flank, The large animal went down, Eleanor still in the saddle, her leg pinned underneath, her boot wedged in the stirrup.

With that, the crowd around David broke into mayhem. He grabbed both kids and pushed through the throng of spectators as quick as he could. His mind was racing. She had to be okay. He wished he had a radio so he could at least hear what was going on. He pulled the kids through St. James Park as more shots rang out. He had to get them to safety and then he had to find Eleanor. When they got to a clump of trees, he stopped and looked at them.

"Everything is going to be fine." David crouched down, a hand on each of their upper arms. Ella looked doubtful, her eyes narrow. "We're going to the palace and then I'll check on Ellie." Both kids nodded. He asked them to please hurry and soon they were at Buck House. All the family that was in the parade were still either at the mews or had been taken to safety. He didn't know what to do; he couldn't just leave Ella and Charlie and dash back out.

David stopped at the main entrance, asking the closest uniformed officer what Eleanor's status was.

"We don't know." The man replied, wide eyed and trying to move away from David, who was gripping his arm. "The Queen and the carriages have all been rerouted back, but the riders…" the officer trailed off.

"Give me your radio." David ordered, jaw clenched. As the officer unlatched his radio. David turned to Ella. "Princess, please take your brother to the kitchen for a snack. I'll be right there." Ella nodded, old enough and wise enough to know the intensity of the situation. She threw an arm around Charlie and said something cheerful about ice cream.

Once the kids were headed downstairs, he clicked the radio.

"Situation update on Spitfire." He said. Static came through. It was then that the first riders came up from the mews. It was the elder Duke, the Earl and the Princess Royal. They all looked shaken and harried. David repeated himself into the radio. Nothing. David was rapidly losing patience.


	3. Chapter 3

"They were behind us." The Duke of York came up to him. "When we heard the shot, our teams…they wouldn't let us..." he was sweaty and red faced, rubbing at his jowls, agitated and upset he could help his niece and nephews. The Earl was on his mobile, speaking with an unknown person, but David soon figured out that it was his father, the Duke of Edinburgh. They hung up and he told them that the Duke had spoken with Kate and all the carriage riders were fine.

The Princess Royal took charge then, herding them all up into the palace, her no-nonsense demeanor pushing them into action. They headed to the study and took the chance of turning on the telly, praying the missing members of the family wouldn't be on the screen. BBC1 was showing a replay, so they all quietly watched. David was transfixed, his palms clammy, not wanting to watch, but feeling deep down that she was fine. Surely, he would know, in his soul, if she were gone. No one spoke; there wasn't a single sound as they watched, even some staff filtered in to see the coverage.

After Eleanor's horse went down, William's horse bucked up and he tried to control it until he gave up and jumped from the saddle, running for his sister, military training kicking in. He kept his head down, using his own horse for cover. Tom and Claude ran for Eleanor as did Harry, as the rest of the regiment bolted and the other family members were pulled to safety. Harry got to her first, grabbing at her. They could see him yelling something, but couldn't obviously hear it. He was pulling at her and it seemed as if she were responding.

Then, Tom was there as Harry's officers pulled at him to get him secured. Harry and William both pushed their officers away. Everyone hit the ground when another shot rang out, pressing their bodies impossibly lower to the pavement. David had caught a glimpse of her, momentarily forgetting that this was already the past.

Tom and Claude's dark suited bodies covered her, but the horse was fully visible, lying still on the pavement. A third shot rang out and two black suvs pulled up then, but Tom didn't move. The other officers got the young Dukes into the back seat of the first one, crouching down to stay hidden behind the vehicles as they moved quickly. One more shot rang out and the first car sped away.

It was then that Tom and Claude moved, pulling at Eleanor, extracting her caught leg from under the horse's body. Arms over her, keeping their heads down, they made it into the car. David let out the breath he had been holding when it seemed as though she was walking of her own volition. The camera panned away then, the road empty save for the poor horse. There were pieces of uniforms, water bottles and rubbish all over.

William and Harry made it back then, storming into the study, eyes searching for the same figure. The one who wasn't there. They landed on David, who could only cross his arms and clench his jaw to keep from freaking out.

"Who were-" Harry started talking, but then Eleanor was there, Tom holding her by the upper arm, her gloved hands clenching his blazer.

She looked small and fragile, her jacket unbuttoned to a white tee that was untucked. Her trousers were stained with dark red blood, the black boots scratched and scuffed. Her hat with the feather was long gone, the ginger curls starting to pull out from the tight chignon. Everyone was staring, and Harry turned to pull her into an embrace, but she sidestepped him.

Eleanor was in his arms in a split second, David holding her close, a lump in his throat. He could feel her heart racing through the tee shirt. He whispered that everyone was fine, everything was fine, and held her tight. She was trembling, but not crying, and hadn't said a word. He held her out from his body a fraction, looking in those pine tree eyes.

"You're okay, love." He whispered. She just nodded and it wrecked him. Her eyes were wide, scared like a small animal, her face pale. She was never, ever, this quiet. "Do you want to go home?" Another nod.

"Where...where are Ella and Charlie?" She finally asked, haltingly, her hands clutching him. David told her that they were in the kitchen. "I'll ask Tom to take me. They may be frightened." David opened his mouth to reply, but then thought she was right. The blood, the look on her face, her wide, haunted eyes, all combined with the frantic race to the palace would probably be too much for the kids.


	4. Chapter 4

Victor pulled the car around and they headed to KP. It was only mid-afternoon and despite the heat, the crowds were immense at the gate. Paps, news vans, regular people were all crowded around each side of the gate and waiting on the sidewalk across the road.

"Stop the car." Eleanor instructed as they turned into the open gate, the sedan half way through.

"No way." Tom replied from his seat next to her. Claude was up front.

"I'm getting out here either way." Her eyes were narrowed and her pretty face firm, so he knew she wasn't bluffing. "You can both stand right next to me if you'd like." He nodded to Victor and the other man put the sedan in park, frowning. She had been quiet the short ride, but Tom was observant enough to know that that didn't mean she wasn't plotting.

Eleanor got out as Claude held her door open. A hush went over the crowd as they realized what was happening. She was still in her uniform, now all buttoned up. Her hair was still pulled back, but her white gloves were discarded.

With both officers standing beside her, she started speaking, looking at the nearest television camera as the journalist held out a microphone.

"There won't be any other statements beside this, but I wanted a moment to tell you, to tell everyone that what happened today at trooping the colour was shameful. We are free in this country to speak our minds and believe what we want. When someone shares their thoughts and encourages others to take a stand, there shouldn't be fear of...of reprisal."

Eleanor took a deep breath and continued, standing straighter, her hands clenched together. Her face was a mask, her eyes vacant, trying to hold it together.

"I try to live my life with honesty and lend my support to causes that I truly believe in and the cowards that tried to...harm me and...my brothers today won't change that. They will be found and they will be punished to the full extent of the law."

With that, she stepped back a fraction and Tom came forward, saying that was it and there wouldn't be any questions. Eleanor walked the few steps to the gate, the men behind her, as the camera shutters clicked furiously. Her mobile was going insane in her pocket.

When they got to the apartment, she turned back to Tom, Claude still by the door.

"Thank you both," She started, eyes going to each man in turn. "For being so brave today."

It took David an hour to take the kids back to Vicki's and assure his ex that all was well. It was her weekend; he had just had them for the parade since they loved it so much. He frowned, thinking they would probably never want to go again. On the drive to Vicki's, he had assured them that Eleanor was fine and she would FaceTime them later. They would come for their turn with him and Eleanor on Thursday and through the rest of the next week. When he got to Vicki's, she had the news on and it was showing a replay of Eleanor's impromptu press conference in front of KP. David watched, a deep frown on his face and a tightness in his chest.

He found her in their bedroom. She had removed her uniform jacket and was leaning on the balcony railing, smoking. Eleanor heard his footsteps on the shiny wood floor, but didn't turn toward him. David leaned against the balcony door and was about to speak when she spoke first.

"I really want a drink." She said, quietly. Then, she took another drag.

"So have one." He replied.

"I promised you." She said quietly. He was momentarily confused, but then remembered the conversation they had all those months ago. She had swore to him she would stay clean and sober.

The way she said it, so quietly, made him sad. They had never once asked the other to change their personalities. Except for that night; the night he found her drunk and high, partying with Harry after their father died. Ever since then, it was just soda with lime and of course, cigarettes. He had noticed, but they never discussed it and that suited them both just fine.

He just looked at her. She had turned back away from him, eyes wandering over the rooftops. It was still sunny out, but the roads were less crowded due to the incident. She came and sat on one of the metal chairs, lighting another cigarette, tossing the lighter on the metal table. David was itching for one, but he quit when he left the service. Instead, he just watched her. There was something calming about it; the way she slowly inhaled and exhaled, tilting her chin up and away to keep the smoke away from him, exposing the creamy skin of her neck.

"Did they find..." she looked at him, eyes a bit narrowed. David shook his head.

"They didn't get them." He replied. "But they have some leads and a group is claiming responsibility. Pro Brexit."

"They were...me?" She barely got it out, her voice was shaking. He could only nod, his face dark. "Are they sending me away?" She asked, not sure what the reply would be.

"They want everyone to go to Scotland, but no one has talked to your gran yet." He told her, wanting to pull her closer, to grab her tight.

She stubbed out the cigarette and stood. "I'll be right back." She said, and walked inside and out of the room. David did as she said and soon she was back, a bottle of scotch and two glasses in her hands. He didn't say a word. He would never judge her and he knew the stress this was causing. Hell, he couldn't wait for her to hand him a glass.

Eleanor pulled out the cork and poured two generous portions. They sat quietly together as the sun started setting. He rolled up his shirt sleeves, she lit another cigarette, poured more scotch.

"There was supposed to be a flypast." She said sometime later. "That's always my favorite."

"Aye." He replied. "The kids were crushed it didn't happen."

"Are they okay?" She asked and he nodded. Her mobile rang then, from where it was on the table between them. David glanced over to it, it was Harry. She reached over and turned it off.

"I've had enough of them for today." She said, catching David's look.

"He probably just wants to check on you, love"

"I'm tired of them coddling me." She focused on him, the fire back in her eyes. "I almost fucking died today and they want to lock me up or send me away. I'm not going anywhere."

Her anger caught him completely off guard. The way she spit out the words, not yelling, but clearly angry. She was positively vibrating with it, all the emotion of the day turning into fury. Focused on him for suggesting she talk to her brother. He wasn't the one telling her she needed to go. He didn't know how to reply, so he just sat, looking at her. She stood and went back inside, leaving him there. He heard the bathroom door slam.

A deep exhale and he stood as well, a hand through his hair. He drank the last of the scotch in his glass, the amber liquid burning down his throat. He knew this wasn't her; it was the situation. It wasn't him; it was just that he was there. He went to the loo, not bothering to knock. He knew he couldn't push her, he couldn't force her to talk, but he just wanted to be there for her. He knew what it was like to be afraid, to not be in control, to not know if you were going to make it.

He took a chance and turned the knob, taking a deep breath and preparing for her to rage at him. When he swung the door open, he was glad that he had gone in.


	5. Chapter 5

The sight in front of him was heartbreaking and agonizing. This was what they had the most in common. Keeping their emotions bottled up so tight until it was like a shaken bottle of soda; pouring out everywhere when they couldn't be contained anymore.

With Eleanor, it was perception. She couldn't have emotions or opinions in public. It was the stiff upper lip, the perfect, flawless princess on the outside and swirling emotions on the inside. With David, it was calm, controlled, hard on the outside. Always in command and always on alert, and then the emotions bubbling right underneath, good or bad, sad or happy, it didn't matter.

Eleanor was sitting, curled up, in the far corner of the big marble shower. She was still fully dressed, even her scuffed up boots, and she was sobbing. Heaving, body shaking sobs, that shattered him into pieces. Her face was down on her pulled up knees, but when she heard him come in, she looked up. He was done for then. Her big, beautiful eyes were wide, tears pouring down her creamy cheeks.

He was to her in three strides, sitting next to her and pulling her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on tight, and continued to cry. He held her so tightly, trying to pull her into him, absorb her agony and pain. He smoothed her hair, made soothing noises, and held her until the sobs calmed, turning into sniffles.

She sat up and David reached up, his thumbs brushing away the tears. It was too much for him to see her so sad, so upset and frightened. She closed her eyes at his touch, sighing. Then, they opened again, looking right at him.

"Do you think what I said...the interview was bad?" She asked, her mouth in a frown. "What did I say to make them so...angry?" She spoke quietly, trying to understand.

"It's like you said, people have the right to believe what they want." David replied, his hands moving to her shoulders. "Some people are more fanatic and when people don't believe what they do…" he trailed off.

"But to want to...to kill me?" She stumbled over the word, not wanting to say it out loud, and his heart shattered for her all over. "I just wanted to help…"

"It's how it is, El." He said softly, thinking of the things he had seen in the army, in his life. "People are terrible to each other. They'll kill each other over words, over anything, over nothing."

She frowned, but nodded. Then she stretched out her legs, the boots thudding on the marble. The blood had dried thick and dark; the trousers would be rubbish.

"Can I stay here? At home? With you?" She asked quietly, looking down at the stain. "Is it...will I be safe?"

"Yes." David replied. "I won't let anything happen to you." He said it firmly, hoping she knew that he fully meant it. Nothing, no one, would get to her.

"What about when you go to work?" She asked, pushing at the edge of the blood stain with her finger.

"You'll be fine; I promise." He stood then, pulling her up with him. He started the tap for her and steam soon filled the room. "We'll be fine." He said, to her and to himself. She was still frowning, eyes still watery, but nodded, and he kissed her forehead.

She met him in the kitchen, wearing a tank top and pajama pants, her hair damp and pulled up into a messy pile. David had changed into running shorts and a tee shirt. He was rummaging in the big refrigerator, pulled some things out, and turned back to her. She had her chin on her hands, elbows on the granite counter.

He smiled broadly, his ocean eyes crinkling at the edges. "Cheese on toast or eggs?" She replied cheese on toast and he got to it. They ate companionably and then she started to tidy up, getting a eye roll from him when she simply pushed everything into the big sink, not even turning on the tap.

"What?" She asked. "Sally will do it in the morning."

"You're so spoiled." He smiled and she stuck out her tongue at him.

"Brat."

"Been called worse." At least he finally got her smiling.

They headed to the study to watch telly, David pulling her in close as he sat and she flipped through the channels, hurrying past the news, but then giving up and switching to Netflix. He watched her as she decided. She seemed okay, if a little quiet. On engagements, it was non stop chatter and jokes, but he knew that this was more her normal speed, contemplative and more mellow. She was always more talkative than he, but on engagements, in public, it was ramped up, asking questions, making people feel important and herself seem relatable.

In the two years he had known her, he had learned that she was a bit of each. She was effortless when she spoke, looking people right in the eyes, smiling, laughing, but when she was done for the day, she was usually quiet. It was if she had used up all of her fuel on the engagement and was empty. He didn't know which he preferred; probably both.

She settled on a movie that they hadn't seen and snuggled in. He kept glancing at her, not focusing on the movie. It was his nature to watch, to monitor. Even when they were home, locked up safe inside the apartments, he did it. She didn't seem to mind and never said anything. He wanted to scoop her up and take her away from all of this. He had set his mobile down on the side table, so he picked it up and texted Tom to see if there was any movement on them moving her to Scotland.

_Tomorrow. Private plane from the air base_. It's not all settled though. Tom responded and David replied, telling him that Eleanor was going to refuse to go. That got him a snarky reply and they went back and forth a bit. Then, he texted Vicki, telling her everything seemed okay and asking after the kids.

"Is everything okay?" Eleanor asked him, looking up from where she was folded into him. He just nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple. When the movie ended, they went upstairs and readied for bed.

Sleep claimed him quickly, but he woke when Eleanor slid out of the bed. He stayed still and quiet, watching as she went to the balcony, closing the door slowly behind her since she thought he was asleep. He couldn't see his watch in the dark, but it was late. The flame of a cigarette glowed in the dark through the window. He thought about joining her again, but didn't. He knew she was fine out there and would come back when she was settled.

Sure enough, three cigarettes later, she came in. His eyes followed her in the dark to the loo and out and soon she was getting back in bed. He sat up as she did so.

"I couldn't sleep." She said simply when she saw he was awake. Her voice was raspy from too many cigarettes.

"I figured." He replied. She turned toward him, her head on the pillow.

"I keep...it's too quiet. The gunshots…" she trailed off, not sure how to articulate what was happening.

"They'll quiet; the ringing in your ears, the shots." He told her, sliding down and turning to face her as well, his face close enough to smell toothpaste. She nodded and he continued, telling her about a time on duty when he had been fired on and that it was the same. That the sounds and eventually even the terror would fade.

"I was so scared." She whispered.

"I was too." He conceded. "But you made it. We're here and I'm proud of you." Her eyes widened at that, so he elaborated. "You stood up for something and even after, after being shot at, you stood up and let those arseholes know that you weren't backing down and you weren't messing about. That was brave of you." He reached out and squeezed her hand where it was resting between them.

"No one has ever said that to me. That I was brave and they were proud of me." She replied.

"First time for everything, Els." He smiled.

She smiled as well and it was amazingly beautiful.

He told her what Tom had said about Scotland and she frowned.

"You told him I'm not going?" She asked. They hadn't been back to Balmoral since her dad's passing. Before, it had been her most favourite place.

"I...I want to stay here and they can't force me." She repeated. "I'm not...I can't go there just yet and…"

She trailed off, agitation starting, and he pulled her close.

"You don't have to go." David assured her. Her curls were tickling his chin.

"I wish you had been there today." She said quietly.

"I might not have been so scared."

"Maybe not, love." He replied, giving her a squeeze. Then, he yawned, unable to stop himself.

"I love you." She said.

"I love you." He replied. He stayed awake, watching, until she was settled and fully asleep. Then, he fell asleep too, knowing she was safe in his arms, next to him.


End file.
